


Kiss

by indi_indecisive



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Boys Kissing, Kissing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-13
Updated: 2019-09-13
Packaged: 2020-10-18 01:04:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 2,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20630531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/indi_indecisive/pseuds/indi_indecisive
Summary: Just a collection of kisses. Short and sweet.





	1. Hand Kiss - Genji/Zenyatta

For a majority of his rebuilt life, Zenyatta had stayed within the echoing walls of the monastery; careful hands had pieced the destroyed omnic back together in meritorious effort to salvage an innocent life. What passion drove him bleed into fear, a fear that was quick to blossom in the light of literal life changing enlightenment. Mondatta intended to keep Zenyatta in the shadows of the public, the elder knew how quickly the spotlight could - would - devour; control slipped through his fingers like silken threads, Zenyatta’s stubbornness was unconstrained.

When Sojiro specifically requested the presence of the newest Tekhartha, only knowing of his existence by the prying media which covered him as a younger, newer, and frightening Tekhartha ( — hidden enlightenment ; described as terrifying, but nothing short of a miracle, an experience ). Mondatta hesitated; Zenyatta had been ecstatic to travel beyond the monastery and the village at her base.

Now Zenyatta stood before a Clan with three of his own Brothers behind him, and Mondatta to his right. Mondatta had not allowed the young Tekhartha to appear in public unprepared; preparation allowed Zenyatta to know who stood before them long before their introductions. Sojiro, standing tall, and to either side of him a child — Hanzo to the right, Genji at his left. Behind them lingered a few bodyguards, and Zenyatta had to hold back a giggle, entertained by the implications.

  
Facing them, Zenyatta found himself relaxed within the walls of a home unknown, yet familiar. Lazily he watched the cherry blossom petals dance in the wind, offering a small dip of his chin or a soft hum to pad the illusion of paying complete attention. Mondatta and Sojiro spoke as old friends might, commenting on the travel, with low rumbles on a shared distaste of it as well wishes passed between each other. In a way, their interaction was endearing, the nature of their visit forgotten by the charm of men acting as old friends might.

Optics flickered around in boredom as his mala spun restlessly around his neck; his gaze would land on Genji, the other appearing bored. Hands twitched impatiently at his side, Zenyatta could practically hear him counting down every second until their meet and greet was over.

It was cute — he was cute, and the first boy Zenyatta had seen who wasn’t another monk. Though green hair was slicked back with an assortment of product, it looked soft, and Zenyatta entertained the thought of running his fingers through it.

How soft would Genji’s hair feel against muted palms?

Zenyatta stared for longer than he should have, thankful that his face did not betray his rude behavior, but Genji cocked his head in a way that made Zenyatta believe he knew he was staring. Facial plate heating with embarrassment, the urge to turn away became an overwhelming burn in his processors, but the sweet Hanamura air held firm to order and respect. The seconds were suffocating before the time to introduce one another came; Mondatta introduced the three Brothers who had accompanied and would attend to them, then himself, and with two straightened fingers he motioned for Zenyatta to speak.

“It is a great honor,” the young Tekhartha bowed, a smile found in his words. “I am Tekartha Zenyatta.” He would reach out to take hold of Sojiro’s hand in a shake, then Hanzo’s, and lastly Genji’s.

  
A small, near inaudible noise of shock escaped Zenyatta as Genji bent in turn, raising Zenyatta’s hand up to press a long and … several kisses along his knuckles. Hanzo glared, caught only as Zenyatta’s optics flickered around in confusion, seeking guidance from either elder.

Genji looked up, offering a wink as he released Zenyatta’s hand.


	2. Goodnight Kiss - Genji/Zenyatta

Neither Zeyatta or Genji wanted to be alone - no one truly wanted to be alone.

Nature had defined her edict between the two of them - it drove their actions, an internal ticking that was as insistent as it was wanted. At the end of the day they would always return to each other, and while they could not always be by each other side in the village - like when they traveled together - they broke apart for their separate duties with a happiness in their hearts. They spared shy glances and childish waves to each other, as lovesick as two souls bound for eternity could be.

They were two beings who found comfort with each other, and who had found acceptance that had yet to be felt with any other. Their bond would remain unbroken - soulmates.

  
It was a life that they had grown delighted with - soft words spoken between one another late within the night, hushed tones to fill Zenyatta’s life with teenage rebellion, curled together on Genji’s mattress. They listened to the wind chimes song, the pale moonlight covering them as a thin silken sheet. Tangled limbs and intertwined fingers, the soft thrum of their bodies pressed close left them both in a state of restless tranquility.

Genji turned his head, nuzzled against the crook of Zenyatta’s neck; he peppered kisses lazily against the omnics frame.

“I missed you,” He muttered, trailing his lips along the omnics neck, up to his jaw, then following along the seam of his face plate. “I love you.”


	3. Goodnight Kiss - Sigma/Zenyatta

”It’s quite late, Dr. Kuiper.”

  
From the entrance of the scientists lab Zenyatta pipes up, voice coated heavy in sleeps sweet accent, dressed in a simple nightshirt that belong to the taller man, and, presumably, short boxers hidden by the end-length of the shirt. With his ankles crossed he leaned against the door frame, floating only a few lazy inches off the ground, a slight smile pulling along his face as his head tilted to the side - soft blues flickered around the laboratory, studying it, and then his partner working dutifully.

Silence fell between them as Siebren stayed in thought, either focused on the task at hand or the rising melody ; Zenyatta did not mind, patient as the Tekhartha was, he was even more so with Siebren. When he pulled his attention back, blinking several times to settle the world into focus, he seemed surprised, then turned to offer Zenyatta a smile upon realizing where he was.

His expression betrayed his confusion, his concern, time had passed far too quickly for his comfort.

“As much as I would love to let you continue working … “ Zenyatta began, pushing off the door frame, reaching a hand out to Siebren ; Siebren takes a hold, intertwining their fingers on instinct, pulling the smaller man closer to him. “It is important that you sleep - you need to sleep.”

Attentive, careful, Zenyatta wrapped his arms around Siebren’s neck and tugged him down. He pressed their foreheads together, smiling softly. “I love you,” he whispers.

“Yes - Yes! Of course, of course! Sleeping … I … I should … “ Siebren trailed off, caught off guard by the affirmation of love ; he tilted his head to the side, a sly smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“I love you too.” He pressed their lips together, slow and sweet. How he savored their intimacy, those subtle moments of their melody ; Zenyatta sighed against his lips, eyes fluttered closed.


	4. Familial Kiss - Zenyatta and Mondatta

Stirred - pulled from the arms of sleep by the slight movement of a relaxed man stretching ; content, but needing to free his pistons and wiring from their stilled state. As Zenyatta aged they slept together less often, no longer the child capable of sleeping in Mondatta’s lap while he busied himself in the night. 

Now, he was able to take a ‘ break ‘ from the younger Tekhartha - though some nights Zenyatta reached out, he was still a child, afraid and desperate for comfort from the omnic who had raised him. 

Bringing his head up, with the slightest pout tugging at his lips, Zenyatta wrapped his arm around Mondatta’s chest-plate and held him closer. “It’s late … “ he muttered, soft blues flickered closed. 

“It’s too late, Mon … “ Yawning, he’d curl against his mentor. “Please - don’t go anywhere.” 

Mondatta hummed, his chin pressed against the others forehead in a soft, familiar gesture - the slightest spark of a kiss, delicate and soothing, urged Zenyatta to fall once again into sleeps waiting arms. 

Remaining silent, he laid a hand against Zenyatta’s back, watching as the young man fell quickly to sleep.


	5. Accidental Kiss - Hanzo/Zenyatta

Falling into simplicity.

Folded clothes and washed sheets, metallic clicking by a fingers movement, smoothing away wrinkles of clothes not meant for him ; optics flicker to the left, studying the man stood in solemn silence. There was comfort between them - growing out of muddied waters, petals bloomed from tightened dark green pods, determined to blossom a friendship.

“I was rather happy to see you, alongside your brother, in morning meditation today.” 

Students shirking meditation was far from an uncommon practice, he had played in such a delicate balance with the younger Shimada brother once - the differences and similarities were abundant between the siblings. Pride! Oh, their pride was strong, and pride would break a man, but it was Hanzo’s subtle persistence that drew Zenyatta ever closer to him. 

He was trying, while others may not have seen it, it called to the monk like a favored childhood melody. 

Hanzo offered a nod - focused on the task that he had taken of folding his own clothes, sharing the burden of persistent wrinkles and faint sweat stains. 

Reaching out he would grab a pair of tattered pants - as stained and ripped as they were, Zenyatta took a moment to evaluate them. He was uncertain if the damage was intentional. Perhaps he stared for too long, brought from his attention by a hand placed over his own. 

“They’re old.”

Zenyatta would give a nod, “I will repair them for you.”

Their hands lingered together for moments too long and intimate ; tension coiled as Hanzo’s finger curled against Zenyatta’s metallic hand, the tickle of movement as surprising as it was sweet. The air thickened, a weight settled in his chest, and Zenyatta turned his head to see the archer leaning forward - he pressed his lips against the seam of his facial plate, and the kiss was awkward. Confidence faltered quickly, and Zenyatta realized how utterly unsure of himself.

Hanzo did not want to be alone. 

Zenyatta raised a hand, placing it gently against Hanzo’s cheek as the man began to pull back. He was a man who deserved to be helped - loved.

“Thank you, Hanzo.”


	6. Romantic Kiss - Loghain/Zenyatta

Stretching upward on the very tips of his toes, Zenyatta craned his neck to better see the papers that Loghain blocked by his frame alone ; Zenyatta had always been a curious one, nature demanded it so. As his hands pressed soft on either Loghain’s shoulders in a silent plea to ease himself down, his thumbs began to work away at the ever-present knots.

“I believe you’ve worked quite enough for today.” Zenyatta muses, pressing a kiss against the nape of Loghain’s neck. “Take a moment to rest - I brought new oils. Honey lavender.”

  
He knew that the fret over action was inconsequential ; what Loghain worked on was nothing more than a trivial dispute better solved over drinks than hours of scrutinizing, it did not demand his attention - Loghain would waste his time to ignore himself.

All men ran from one thing or another.

He turned them around, muttering a simple cast to move the papers before Zenyatte settled on the table, legs spread apart as he guided Loghain forward, arms wrapped around his neck.

“Take a moment away.” Leaning up he’d pepper kisses along Loghain’s jawline. “Take a moment with me.”

Caught within a surprise, a noise escaped the back of his throat - similar to a squeak - as fingers took hold of his jaw and guided his lips away. His lover stood with a softened expression, thumb brushed along the curve of a bottom lip, and he leaned in slowly to press their lips together. Then, as if he were afraid Zenyatta would pull away, his hands cupped either cheek.

Zenyatta curled his fingers against Loghain’s back, his legs wrapped around a wait to pull them closer - he enjoyed being close to those he loved.


	7. Accidental Kiss - Sigma/Zenyatta

Before Dr. Siebren de Kuiper, Zenyatta had not known - or perhaps acknowledge - the exact degree at which he missed dancing within the stars. To be truthful, the sensation between looking upward rather than around had left him with an emptiness to awe, but Zenyatta had been more than just satisfied with his life.

To forgo the stars in favor of those like Genji … he would do so again.

Lifted upward by an offered hand, Zenyatta’s facial plate warmed. His own ability to float had been a symbol of enlightenment - Siebren’s another.

They needed not intertwine their fingers ; together above the ground they brushed against each other, twisting and turning to a melody shared between them. Zenyatta’s head tilted back in a laughter that was soft and joyous, Siebren responded by wrapping an arm around the omnic’s waist, guiding him into another turn that ended in a dip. Zenyatta had always been a graceful creature, but few had seen such fluidity.

Perhaps Siebren had become overwhelmed, caught in a moment of total acceptance ; Zenyatta could feel curl and tighten of his fingers against his framework, the odd jerk of his head in uncertainty. Where did he kiss? The indecision lasted a moment, maybe less, before he pressed his lips along the seam of Zenyatta’s face-plate.

Zenyatta hummed, a hand raised to rest against Siebren’s chest - not to push him away, he listened.

  
“Siebren - can you hear your heart?” It was hurting. “I am here.”


	8. Accidental Kiss - Junkrat/Zenyatta

Not often does he intrude.

Fingers press against a door frame of chipped wood and peeling paint, head tilted to the side in thought ; his body hums a soft song, processors adjusting to the heat of a workshop, filters whirled loud in annoyance at air needing filtering, then smoothing out into a steady rhythm. In his lap rests a silver tray, bowls laden with food - cooked rice and spiced meats - he had not meant to, but there was ease in tracking patterns.

  
Jamison did not eat often ; though sharpened teeth and a bitter tongue rejected his companionship, Zenyatta’s soft heart was persistent. His compassion was genuine.

“Jamison?”

Rather odd - the name accompanied irritated groans and frustrated snarls, but none were heard. Surely his microphones hadn’t ruptured?

Leaning into the workshop he tilted his head to the left, spotting a workbench in disarray, seemingly abandoned by who had claimed it - sketch papers and mechanical pieces strewn about. Perhaps he should set the tray down there, clear a small enough space for the tray and leave before Jamison returned - temperamental as he was, Zenyatta held a preference in not injuring potential friends. Floating into the room he headed toward the workbench, thoroughly surprised when a disheveled Australian popped from … well, frankly, Zenyatta did not know where he came from, only that he came.

Jamison came as a surprise, prompting additional golden arms outward - he reacted quickly, with one arm wrapping around the ex - Junkers waist, pulled close on an impulse of protection, while two other pressed against the wall to support the two men.

“Ah ! Junkrat ! I … I’ve brought you lunch.” Nervousness presses sweetly against the edges of vocal wiring, he had not been allowed to be so close nor to hold the man. He feared not to be struck, pressed only for Jamison’s comfort. “Rice and meat. I must apologize, but I do not know what you enjoy .. eating …”

Speech slowed by the quick press of lips against his facial plate ; pleasantly warm to the touch, confused. The kiss was quick - lacking passion - it was an assessment.

“Jamison?”


End file.
